Does't Mean Anything
by spoodle monkey
Summary: There's something about the other hero that just rubs him the wrong way. 3 ClintPietro moments in time. HawkeyexQuicksilver SLASH


Disclaimer: Nope, don't own.

A/N- I DID IT! Woot! I made it to 100 stories and just in time for my bday tomorrow! And with a pairing I've never written before! Clint/Pietro with a side order of Tony and Steve for your reading pleasures! Enjoy!

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There's something about the other hero that just rubs him the wrong way. Maybe it's who his father is, or the way he parades around like he's somehow superior to them all.

No, it's just the man himself that he doesn't like; from the 'holier than thou' attitude to the way he's convinced he can do it all on his own. Like now, Clint muses as he cocks an arrow and lets it fly with barely any effort. Barely any effort and it slides into the AIM agents shoulder before he can zap Quicksilver with whatever ray gun they've cooked up this time. It's a nasty looking piece of equipment.

The battles in full fury around them but Clint takes a moment to stride over and haul the other hero to his feet.

"This doesn't mean I like you." He says as he holds out his hand. He doesn't bring up or mock the fact that some lowly AIM agent had managed to halt the _great Pietro_ in his tracks. He'll save it for later. Probably.

Quicksilver accepts the hand mutely, lips pursed and clearly annoyed- probably with the world in general. Normally he'd soak up the irritation and frustration greedily.

He doesn't say thank you but he doesn't snap at Clint either surprisingly enough.

"Let's kick some ass!" Clint bares his teeth and grabs an arrow, ready to jump back into the fray.

Something that might be a smile almost breaks across the other heroes face but Clint blinks and Quicksilver has disappeared as though he were never there at all.

Hawkeye turns; arrow pulled tight, and rejoins the fight.

DI

The silence is killing him.

He's used to being able to talk his way out of anything (including most of Steve's lectures and that's a feat in its own); he's not sure he's going to be able to talk his way out of this one. He figures words will just make it worse.

Normally he'd be relishing in the way his bones still feel like liquid and how all the tension that had been gathering at the back of his neck has disappeared. He'd stretch out, crack a few joints and jokes and maybe get ready for round two (or round three as was such the case).

Right now though, he's too busy freaking out.

The sheets are cool and smooth under his hands, Egyptian cotton he notes, as he clenches and unclenches his hands. He's searching for something to say, something witty and smart that will get across the fact that this will never, _ever_ happen again. Unless of course he's desperate or hasn't gotten any in awhile or something because it definitely was _not_ horrible; but its not going to happen again. Ever. Probably.

He knows that his bedmate is awake; he can see long silver eye lashes fluttering as the other blinks, staring at some thing above them. Probably just the ceiling.

Pietro rolls his head and looks him square in the eye and Clint looks away quickly, flustered at being caught staring. He's allowed to though, isn't he?

He should be allowed to look after he'd done _that_ to Pietro. And the things Pietro had done with his mouth and his _tongue_...he's impressed they made it to the bed. Hell, he's impressed they made it to a room. Wanda hexing him would have topped off his already screwed up day.

Even if he'd been the one doing the screwing.

Oh god- so much for ever looking the other hero in the eye again.

"So..." Clint finally says when he can't bear the silence anymore.

Pietro smirks over at him, as though he just _knew_ that Clint would be the one to break the silence, before resuming his staring contest with the ceiling.

"About what happened..." Clint continues only to be interrupted.

"We tell no one."

Yeah, like he was about to run out and go find the rest of the guys to tell them. Tony would probably never stop laughing. Steve would probably just give him the _look_.

"No shit." Clint snorts and rolls out of the bed, saying screw modesty and wanders around the room naked trying to find his uniform.

He finds his pants half under the bed, hidden by the Quicksilver costume and when he straightens back up he catches the man lying in the bed watching him. Clint smirks over at him and he could swear something akin to a blush starts to rise up the long, pale neck (no, he is not looking. Maybe a little.)

"This does not mean I like you." Pietro informs him coolly.

Clint barks out a sharp laugh because _he_ hadn't been the one muttering furiously and desperately for Clint to pound him into the mattress.

"Yeah, sure." Clint pulls on his pants, gathers the rest of his costume and heads out of the room. "Whatever you say." He calls over his shoulder and he can just imagine Pietro's glare.

DI

Clint tries hard not to roll his eyes, he really does- somehow he doesn't think that he's succeeded.

Steve frowns at him, arms crossed over his massive chest and eyes him like he's trying to figure out if his lecture has sunk in or not. It hasn't. Not really.

The second they'd gotten out of their costumes at the mansion, Steve had cornered him and had started in on his 'we don't run into things head first, especially when we have no idea what's going on' lecture. If Clint were counting, this would be the seventh time he's heard it this year. It usually goes with Steve's 'our team-mates can handle themselves too' lecture. The man's a hypocrite and he doesn't even realize it.

It's all fine and dandy when Steve's rushing into something he doesn't know anything about to save _Iron man_. When Clint loses his head and rushes in (almost getting shot. Almost) to save Pietro's ass, even if it might not have been necessary, he gets lectured for an hour.

Steve seems to realize he hasn't been listening for a while sighs and lets Tony drag him off to the kitchen. Clint sends Tony a silent thank you and tries not to look like he's running away.

"You did it again."

And running away really only works with teammates that aren't much, much faster than he is.

Clint finishes his hasty escape into the front yard and leaves the door open long enough for Pietro to slip through.

"Did what?" He asks, playing dumb. He's never sure whether to be impressed with himself or irritated when people buy his act.

Pietro gracefully seats himself under one of the trees and Clint slumps down next to him. The way he sees it, no one is as graceful as Pietro. Except Wanda maybe. It has to be a twin thing or something.

"Tried to play the hero and nearly got yourself shot." The other man smirks at him, like he knows exactly what Clint had been thinking at the time. Which is impossible considering _Clint_ hadn't been thinking anything at the time. He'd just felt the overwhelming need to get to _Pietro_.

"Who says I'm not a hero?" Clint demands with false righteous anger. Pietro doesn't answer him, but then again, he's never really been one to use words needlessly. Or at least what he considered needless. Insulting Clint had never been needless apparently.

They settle back against the tree, shoulders pressed together and just soaking up each other's presence. He's got to say there's something about Pietro that used to rub him the wrong way and now...

"What are you doing now?" Clint asks abruptly.

Pietro twists his head, raises an eyebrow and gives him a look that clearly says 'what do you think?' Clint nudges his shoulder in retaliation because he knows what he means and he's just choosing to be particularly dense.

"Nothing, Wanda had to cancel our dinner plans as she,"

"Perfect." Clint cuts him off and ignores the slight glare. "Let's go see a movie."

Pietro is studying him intently, almost like he's some sort of bug under a magnifying glass or something. Clint sits perfect still and doesn't fidget, though he really wants to.

"A movie." Pietro repeats and he relaxes minutely against Clint, releasing tension that Clint hadn't even known was there. "It sounds...acceptable."

Clint grins over at him and flicks Pietro's leg lightly.

"This doesn't mean I like you, you know." He teases and Pietro snorts, undignified and shocking and something he probably picked up from Clint.

"We couldn't have anyone thinking that." Pietro does the best deadpan, but a smile is threatening to break out across the other man's face. He decides he want the smile for himself.

So Clint leans across the short distance and kisses Pietro.


End file.
